why don't you be the artist & make me out of clay?
by scintillating stars
Summary: -"why don't you be the writer, decide the words I say? 'cause i'd rather pretend i'll still be there at the end" skye-centric holiday drabble. happy new years & enjoy!


**a/n: happy holidays, everyone! i swear this was meant to be a happier story. i don't know what happened. sorry xD**

**[disclaimed]**

**why don't you be the artist, and make me out of clay?**

_(why don't you be the writer, decide the words I say?  
>'cause i'd rather pretend i'll still be there at the end)<em>

roses are red,  
>violets are blue.<br>i wish christmas was over,  
>and new years too.<p>

**[]**

rainbow christmas lights shone brightly around the room;  
>people milled around in formal attire gossiping and laughing;<br>classical music was playing oh so softly in the background.

_(fuck this elegant shit.)_

**[]**

"skye, dear!" the tinkling voice of her mother called from across the room, waiting to introduce the teenager to new business partners.

a glass of bubbly pink champagne was swirled in the glass,

**around,** _around_, and around,

before being downed by the blonde.

peachy. _just peachy_.

**[]**

cigarette,

chocolate,

beer.

(_rinse.)_

**repeat.**

**[]**

sandy brown hair, moss green eyes, and washboard abs.

_mhm, this one will be fun to play with._

(moans resonated throughout the bedroom, bodies slick with sweat moved against each other, and expensive designer clothes were carelessly tossed aside.)

**[]**

**16 new messages**

**8 missed calls**

**5 new voicemails**

the old phone was slid shut and shoved into the depths of her tote bag.

who was he to think he could contact her whenever he wanted to?

_it was just a hook up._

**[]**

"skye, can we leave milk and cookies out for santa tonight?" little vivienne hamilton eagerly asked her older sister.

ruby red lips exhaled another puff of bitter tobacco smoke, careful to face away from the innocent little girl;

"of course we will, viv."

(she had never been a dream-crasher.)

**[]**

all she remembers was playing strip poker and losing both her shirt and pants,

then dancing on a table with massie in her underwear.

and she remembered seeing him.

**(he looked so disappointed.)**

**[]**

christmas carols were blasted throughout the house, with vivienne screaming out along with them.

"it's christmas, it's christmas! everyone get up! santa brought presents!"

(she stayed under her warm fluffy covers.)

**[]**

they hooked up again.

"skye -" he began, hesitant.

"shhh," she soothed, placing light kisses on his lips to stop him from talking. "we can talk later."

**[]**

they never talked.

**[]**

she pulled a dark brown glass bottle out of her parents' liquor cabinet.

_alcohol out, water in_.

it's how it'd always been;

**nothing was going to change.**

**[]**

"skye, skye, skye! can we visit the park?"

"why, viv? isn't staying at home warmer and easier?"

"well, yeah. but outside is colorful and fresh and pretty!"

there was a pounding in her head, she wasn't used to dealing with so much enthusiasm and _happiness_.

"sure thing. just let me grab my coat."

(and a couple cigarettes)

**[]**

relative came and went, dropping by with fake smiles and expensive presents.

the days passed oh so slowly;

skye drowned herself in a blur of tobacco, alcohol,

and a boy called _kemp hurley_.

**[]**

she tried her best not to corrupt him; he was just so innocent and _happy_ and she wanted to keep it that way.

**[]**

they had established a routine.

every afternoon she would go to his house for a late lunch and then they would head to his bedroom, as per usual.

they would talk sometimes, and she would talk to him about everything except what actually mattered -

_**herself**_**.**

**[]**

he asked her to the rivera's annual black tie new year's party.

(she'd never had a date to anything before.)

**[]**

her mom used her as a human-sized barbie doll and primped her to perfection.

coral pink strapless bubble dress, silver wedges, and a fancy bun with her silky blonde hair to top.

even she though she looked nice,

but it was _his_ thought that counted.

"you look beautiful, skye."

(not pretty, not hot, not gorgeous, **beautiful.**)

and for the first time in a long while, a sincere smile dawned on her flawless features.

**[]**

she was so proud of herself, she had only drank one glass of champagne so far.

**[]**

"TEN!"

(here comes the new year.)

"NINE!"

"EIGHT!"

"SEVEN!"

(he appeared out of nowhere and took his place next to her, an arm slung around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.)

"SIX!"

"FIVE!"

"FOUR!"

(she had never been with someone on a new year's eve before. it felt... nice.)

"THREE!"

"TWO!"

"ONE!"

(he spun her towards him and kissed her right on the lips. cheers erupted around them as the new year arrived and she felt ever so safe in his arms.)

**[]**

she should've been aware of what was happening to her.

**[]**

it was two in the morning on january first and they were standing on the hamiltons' patio, watching the seemingly never-ending fireworks.

"skye, i know we've never talked about this, but what are we?"

"we're whatever you want us to be. why do we need a title? we're just _us_."

"well, i know. but skye..."

he brought his slender hand up to her face and tilted her chin upwards, forcing her to look up into his eyes.

"i... think i love you." he whispered, almost painfully.

she thought she had heard him wrong, but the awfully serious look in his eyes told her otherwise.

"i..."

she knew what she was supposed to say.

just a simple "i love you too" would have sufficed, but she just couldn't say it.

(instead, she ran away, up to the attic, her sanctuary, and curled up in a bean bag.)

**[]**

he found her, much later, and stood there speechless before the bubbling mess of a girl.

her make up was running down her face, a few strands of hair were plastered to her forehead, and she was mumbling incoherently, but she was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"kemp, i'm so -" she hiccupped, trying her best to get the words out. she knew it was him there even without looking up. "i'm so sorry."

"there's no need to apologize, skye. maybe i was coming on too strong." he soothed, though he was heartbroken by her response to his confession.

"no, no." she shook her head, desperately trying to make him understand. "it was just... too much. kemp, i've never loved anyone before."

"well now could be a good time to start."

"i don't know _how_ to love someone."

his face fell, for once having no words of comfort. she looked up at his crestfallen face and knew that she couldn't (and _wouldn't_) do that to him.

"but, well... i can try?" her statement coming out more like a question.

his face lit up again, and her heart warmed - no one had ever been so happy because of something she said before.

"i really really like you, kemp," she managed to utter out with no complications.

he chuckled. "i really really like you too, skye."

**[]**

maybe the holidays weren't so bad after all.

**[]**

**a/n: the torture is over! for those of you who managed to make it this far. i applaud you. (: the title and lyrics at the beginning are from **_**the writer**_** by ellie goulding - wonderful song, go listen. and this was supposed to make sense and be good and be fluffy, but instead it turned out confusing, awful, and somewhat angsty. at least the ending is happy? so anyway this is my little holiday gift to you all; happy new year and i hope y'all are having a wonderful time with your families and friends!**


End file.
